


can i hold your hand?

by ratluv



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratluv/pseuds/ratluv
Summary: Brad wasn't sure what had motivated him to ask, and truthfully he had no clue where the idea even came from, but when David mentioned he was dreading going home alone, Brad offered for David to spend the night at his house.
Relationships: Brad Bakshi & David Brittlesbee, Brad Bakshi/David Brittlesbee, Braddavid - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	can i hold your hand?

**Author's Note:**

> for davie <3 !!

Brad wasn't sure what had motivated him to ask, and truthfully he had no clue where the idea even came from, but when David mentioned he was dreading going home alone, Brad offered for David to spend the night at his house. 

“It's Friday night, no work tomorrow,” Brad spoke with a tinge of excitement in his voice that David had never heard before. “We can stay up as late as we want.” Brad joked, altering his voice to sound like a teenager ready to raid his parent’s liquor cabinet while they were out, “my parents aren't home.” 

David chuckled at this as he continued to pack up his desk, and Brad wished he knew David when they were younger. Maybe if he had David as a friend when he was sixteen, he wouldn't have spent so much of his life dreading the idea of getting up in the morning. He would always have something to look forward to: Spending time with someone who wouldn't disappoint him.

David thought for a moment and Brad anxiously waited for his response, bracing for rejection and reminding himself not to take it too harshly.

“Alright,” David turned to fully face Brad, “yeah,” he said, smiling.

“Yeah?” Brad's eyes lit up, he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and shoved it over his shoulders.

“Yeah, why not?” David mimicked Brad's movements and pulled on his jacket.

“That's what I like to hear,” Brad rattled his car keys in his hand, eager to get out of the office.

“Can we stop by my house first, just real quick? So I can grab some things?” David asked, he sounded almost guilty as if he thought Brad would be mad.

“Yeah, of course,” Brad replied, gesturing to the door, he looked at David fondly and said: “after you.”

David wasn't sure what had gotten into Brad, and he was trying to appreciate this new attitude Brad had, but he seemed overly cheery. So much so David worried if Brad was all right. He swallowed his anxieties and questions, though, afraid to disturb the mood by making the uncommonness of it so obvious. It's not like people can't have good days, why run the risk of ruining Brad’s day by pointing out a harmless attitude?

They were on their way to Brad's, David’s small overnight bag sitting in his lap, and all the questions David wanted to ask were pounding on the back of his throat so hard it was difficult to swallow.

“What's on your mind?” Brad asked.

His voice disturbed the silence, or more so it disturbed the small noises they had grown accustomed to while sitting in the car for so long: the hum of the car, the clicks of the turn signal, the woosh of cars passing by them, the buzz of the radio playing throwback 2000’s pop with the volume as low as it can be without muting the radio.

“Not much,” David said, turning away from the window and looking at Brad instead. 

Brad's eyes stayed focused on the road though, and David was happy they did because he stared at Brad longer than he would care to admit. He took in everything he could see of Brad's face in the weak red light that shone through the windshield from cars in front of them. It was mid-November now, meaning the sky was dark before six. It was hard to see Brad's face in any consistent light, the shadows and constant change of angles created difficulties in David’s study.

“You seem very in thought,” Brad said, his eyes dashing between the car mirrors as they sped down the highway.

“What's up with you today?” David finally asked, his voice sounding small, “you’re abnormally happy.”

Brad smiled, “a person can't be happy?” he asked, glancing over at David quickly.

“Any person can be happy,” David flashed a weak smiled when Brad looked at him, “but you're not one to show it so obviously,” he added, turning to look at the road ahead.

“What did you want to do when we get to my place?” Brad asked, ignoring David’s statement and completely changing the subject, “I think I have some wine, but if you don't want to drink I rented a movie last night that I never got around to watching.” He said, his eyes flicking to the side to check the mirrors.

“I could go for some wine,” David said softly. Brad's cheerfulness had died down a little, just a little, but oddly, it made David feel better. It didn't feel so much like an act anymore. “What movie did you rent?”

“It's actually kind of sad, it's a book I read—The Goldfinch? I don't know if you've heard of it.” David hadn't. “I rented the movie, but I got scared, you know? The book is always better than the movie, I didn't want to ruin it.” Brad looked at David, who was staring ahead at the road and soaking up every word Brad spoke. “We don't have to watch it,” Brad added after a moment of silence.

“I’m not in the mood for sad tonight,” David admitted, looking over at Brad again and catching him looking David up and down.

“Fine by me,” Brad said, David thankful not to hear the disapproval in his voice, “we can do whatever you want.”

By the time they got to Brad’s house, it was eight o'clock. David walked into Brad's house, admiring everything he saw. It wasn't at all what he was expecting; Brad's house was cozier than David thought it would be. Picturing white walls and dark wood with light tile flooring, minimalistic decor, and expensive objects, David was pleasantly surprised by the homey feeling that overwhelmed him as he stepped foot through the front door. 

A simple living room set up was the first thing you saw as you walk into the house: pale wood flooring with a large grey couch, a low sitting glass coffee table, and a TV mounted on the wall across from it. There were paintings and pictures hung on the walls, soft curtains covered the windows and big pots with even bigger plants covered the floor under said windows. A hallway led to what David assumed was a bathroom and bedroom, and the kitchen was easy to spot because the only thing separating it from the living room was a half wall covered in books, candles, and succulents. The kitchen looked just as cozy as the living room. David felt overwhelmingly safe here.

“Wow,” David spoke quietly, speaking up when he realized Brad was behind him, turning on the lights, “I think I’m in love with your house.”

Brad chuckled, “thank you,” he shut the door and set his keys down in a bowl on a side table by the couch. He asked David for his coat and hung them up on the coat rack next to the door. 

“Where should I put my stuff?” David asked, looking down at the measly little backpack he’s had since college. 

“You can put it in my room,” Brad said, flicking on another light. David looked up at him. “You can sleep in there tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.” David’s face screwed up, “don't worry the sheets are clean I just washed them–”

“No,” David interrupted him, “I’m not taking over your room. I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

Brad smirked, shoving his hand in his pocket. 

“I insist you sleep in my bed,” Brad said, speaking up when David dared to interrupt him, “I invited you over, I’m not having you sleep on the couch. One night on the couch won't kill me.”

“It won't kill me either,” David said, setting his stuff down next to the couch.

Brad huffed, more out of amusement than an annoyance, which David was glad to pick up on. “Then I guess we’re both sleeping on the couch because I’m not sleeping in my bed.”

David looked at the couch, an instinctual reaction to what Brad said, “I don't think we will both fit.” David looked back up at Brad, his eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief.

“Me neither, but we will have to make do.” Brad slumped down on the couch, leaning forward to grab the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV. David sat down next to him.

By now it was almost eleven o'clock, and after two bottles of wine and no dinner, David was feeling tipsy. Wine made him looser and carefree—it also made him affectionate. If there was one thing David was sure Brad didn't know, it's that David loved touch. Not the hard, fast, angry touch. Never the kind that leaves you sad or scared, or questioning what went wrong. The subtle touches that come with care. The tender touches that spread your body with warmth and make you feel safe, comfortable. 

Brad was quick to learn this though. As the time grew closer to eleven, David got ever so closer to Brad. Every time David moved, whether it be to grab something from his bag, pour himself more wine, or use the bathroom, he would always situate himself just a few inches closer to brad on the couch. Not once did Brad move away. And while they talked, either facing each other or facing the TV as they babbled about the nonsense they witnessed on reality TV, David would rest his hand on Brad's knee or shoulder. His hand wouldn’t lay there for longer than a moment or two, but Brad wished just once he would let it. And each time David poured Brad another glass of wine, his fingers would linger on the back of Brad’s hand just a little longer as he passed the glass back. 

“You're very touchy,” Brad took a sip from his wine, studying David’s reaction. David looked at him, his face falling and his lips parting as he attempted an apology, “which is fine, by the way.” Brad said before David could speak.

“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, the wine is getting to me.” David blushed, turning away from Brad so he wouldn't notice.

“Who said I was uncomfortable?” Brad said, taking note of David’s blush growing darker, “it's nice,” he admitted.

“It just happens when I’ve been drinking, it's why I don't drink around people,” David spoke softly, bringing his wine glass up to his lips before second-guessing his decision and deciding to put it back down.

“We should drink together more often then,” Brad teased, taking note of David’s subtle body shift.

“I don’t drink very much anymore,” David looked at Brad again. Brad hadn’t taken his eyes off of David, but David didn’t mind. He enjoyed it, even. “I think it just gets me in trouble.”

“Why do you say that?” Brad instinctively took a sip of wine.

“I don’t know.” He did know, but saying it made it all too real.

They stared at each other. Brad licked his bottom lip and looked David up and down once more, David had caught him doing this a few times since the first time in the car. It was always when Brad thought David wouldn’t notice like when he was watching the show on TV they had put on so they had background noise—which also worked excellently as a conversation starter for David, one complaint about the show drove Brad into a frenzy of rants or mockeries of the program. And although David didn’t resent the looks, it felt nice to be admired, he was curious why Brad continuously did it.

“Why do you keep–”

“Can I hold your hand?” Brad asked in a moment of boldness, cutting David off and relishing in the stunned look he gave Brad. 

David's eyes were soft, but he was undoubtedly surprised by this question. His cheeks grew pink, and his forehead creased as his eyebrows raised slightly in shock. His lips remained parted as he stared at Brad who was tucked into the corner of the couch, his body facing David. 

“S-sure,” David finally said, pulling his hand out of his lap and resting it on the couch close to Brad’s knee. 

Brad took David’s hand. “Scoot closer, you're too far away,” he said, watching as David adjusted his position so the two of them were basically touching knees. “You're okay with this, right?” Brad asked, and David nodded quickly and wordlessly. 

Brad pulled David’s hand closer, interlocking their fingers and rubbing the pad of his thumb up and down the side of David’s hand. David shivered, making Brad chuckle softly and David’s cheeks flushed darker. They remained like this for a few minutes, sometimes Brad would scrape the tip of his fingernail ever so lightly over the side of David's hand, tickling David and making him smile. They didn't speak the whole time, appreciating each other in the silence and growing comfortable with the touch. Though Brad was quite a deal more at ease with what was happening. Snug in his corner of the couch, he studied David who was sat stock-still against the back of the couch as if any movement would trigger a harsh reaction from Brad. 

Brad felt a tinge of sadness.

“David,” Brad suddenly pulled his hand away from David’s, and the way the cool air swept over their palms felt lonely, “do you see yourself getting into another relationship?” David was very clearly taken aback by this question. 

Brad apologized for intruding on his personal life but David insisted that it was fine. 

“To tell you the truth I’m not sure,” David admitted. “I would love to be in one, I think, but I’m not sure when the right time to be in one would be. It's been difficult,” David spoke truthfully and Brad did his best to empathize with him, having never gone through a situation quite like David’s.

“Well when you're ready, you're ready,” Brad offered, trying to push some encouragement into the conversation. “I think you'll know when you are, and I think it'll be good for you.” Brad's face remained still and expressionless, but David smiled and thanked him. “And no matter who it is I will support you,” Brad added. David shook his head and made a face—his nose crinkled, his eyes squinting, and his mouth turned into a flat smile. “What?” Brad asked, “w-what was that? What was that face?”

“No matter who it is?” David repeated, laughing. Brad was unsure if David was actually amused or if he was simply unsure what action to accompany the question.

“Yeah, what?” Brad smiled, and luckily David smiled back, his eyes softening, “What? I can't support my friend?” Brad asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“Your friend?” David teased, shoving his knee into Brad’s. Brad was happy David felt comfortable again. Seeping back into the couch, David continued talking, “since when are we friends?”

“Since forever,” Brad shoved David’s knee back, “what, you don't think we’re friends?”

“You've just never called us friends before, that's all,” David spoke into his wine glass as he brought it up to his lips for a sip.

“Well I hold hands with my friends,” Brad said quietly. David hummed. “I’ve kissed my friends too.”

David busted out a laugh, only for a second, before his face flushed and he sputtered out an “oh, please.”

“No, really,” Brad said, his voice serious, taking David by surprise. “You’ve never kissed your friends?” Brad looked at David who seemed shocked by every word he had spoken.

“Not really,” David said, studying Brad's face; searching for a telltale sign he was just pulling David’s leg.

“Why not?” Brad crossed his legs, mimicking the actions of an interested therapist trying to pry their way into David’s mind. 

David laughed, “I’ve just never felt the need to kiss my friend, I guess,” he admitted.

“I don't think there's anything wrong with it,” Brad said, his voice sturdy and confident, “I think everyone should kiss their friends. I mean,” Brad sat up, it was easier to talk with his hands that way, “who says you can only kiss people you’re romantically interested in? What’s so wrong with giving your friend a quick kiss?”

“Well, it ruins a romantically charged kiss if you just go around kissing whoever you want!” David spoke almost immediately, sitting up again, he turned to face Brad, “since you kiss all your friends,” David started, speaking without thinking, “if I kissed you right now, you wouldn't know if it's romantic or not. It could just be a friend kissing a friend. I could never tell you, and you would never know.”

Brad was smirking at David, whose face fell as he realized what he had just said.

“So kiss me,” Brad’s eyes flashed something mischievous.

“Oh shut up,” David hit Brad's arm, a little harder than he was trying to, but Brad didn't seem to notice. Maybe David had had too much to drink. He set his glass down. 

“David,” Brad spoke, his voice laced with a tone David wasn't used to. David looked up at him. “Kiss me.”

David's face flushed again, but this time it was darker than it had ever been before. He could feel how hot his face was, and knowing he was so flushed made him embarrassed, which resulted in him blushing more. 

The look in Brad's eyes told David he was serious, this is what Brad wanted, but he wasn't going to make David do it. David knew he could say no, but the word never made it past his lips. Before he knew it he was inching closer to Brad, placing a palm on Brad's thigh, he pushed himself up and leaned forward so he was next to Brad's face. Brad smelled of wood ashes and blackcurrant from the wine, but his expensive cologne smelled of spices like frankincense and myrrh. David lingered for a moment, and Brad let David linger. David took note of how warm Brad smelled. Finally, with his free hand, Brad placed his palm on David’s hot cheek and pulled him in closer. 

The kiss was soft and lasted only a few seconds, Brad was the one to pull away and David couldn't help but whine when he did. Brad ran his thumb over David’s red cheek the same way he had run it over his hand just mere minutes before. Brad stared into David’s eyes, glossed over, and his pupils blown. David didn't move, the only thing holding him up was a heavy hand on Brad’s thigh which truthfully was beginning to hurt. David closed his eyes and leaned into Brad's hand and Brad continued to stroke the soft surface of David’s cheek. 

“You okay?” Brad asked, finally breaking the silence. David hummed his approval, but Brad noticed David’s eyelashes growing wet. “Are you sure?” Brad felt David’s heavy hand grow lighter on his thigh. Before he knew it, David was collapsed onto Brad’s chest.

Startled, Brad moved quickly to put his glass down so he could comfort David who was quietly sobbing into Brad's shirt. Brad asked what was wrong, but David said nothing. Once Brad had freed his other hand, he placed it on David’s back and pulled him in closer. Brad shifted so David could place his face on Brad's shoulder, and Brad ran his hand over the back of David’s head. David wrapped his arms around Brad, shoving them behind his back and gripping Brad’s sweater. Neither of them said anything until David’s cries began to subside. 

“I’m sorry,” David spoke into Brad’s neck, which was ticklish from the hot tears.

Brad hushed David and hugged him tighter, “please don't apologize.”

“This is pathetic,” David said, pulling away from Brad who let go quickly. His eyes were puffy and his face was still red, but a blotchy red. His cheek was imprinted with the texture of Brad's sweater.

“It's not pathetic, David,” Brad sat up and pulled himself forward so he was closer to David, “what's wrong?” 

David didn't say anything and Brad didn't pry, he knew that David would tell him when or if he wanted to. David appreciated this about brad because honestly, David didn't know what was wrong. He wasn't sure why he cried, he just knows that he did it. And he was happy Brad was nice about it.

“I know it's late,” Brad said after a moment of silence, “but do you want something to eat? I don't want you going to sleep with no food. We had a bit to drink.”

“I think I’m okay,” David wiped his eyes and looked at Brad with a weak smile, he produced a dry laugh before continuing, “I’m kind of tired, to be honest.”

“We can go to sleep,” Brad said, standing up to take the glasses and empty wine bottles into the kitchen, David stood with him. “If you wanted to,” Brad turned to him, a wine bottle tucked under his arm, “we could both sleep in my bed. It's a fairly decent size, I’m sure we would both be comfortable.” David said nothing, and Brad tried to fill the silence, “if not I promise I’m okay sleeping on the couch it's really not a big deal–”

“No let's sleep in the bed,” David said, grabbing the wine glasses to help brad clean up. 

“Okay.”

After they moved the wine bottles and glasses into the kitchen, Brad helped David to the bathroom in his room. David had grown visibly exhausted, and it's not like he refused Brad's help. While David showered, Brad finished cleaning up and brought David’s things into his room. He grabbed what he assumed was David’s pajamas out of the bag, and set them in the bathroom for David when he was done showering. 

“Thank you,” David said coming out of the bathroom, his voice laced with exhaustion. 

“Of course,” Brad replied, he was already in bed. A lamp next to his bed dimly illuminated one side of his face.

“You're not going to shower?” David asked, making his way from the bathroom door to the side of the bed.

“I usually shower in the morning,” Brad said, which was a lie. In reality, he just wanted to be with David as he fell asleep. “You sure you don't mind sharing the bed?” He asked, wanting to make sure David was comfortable. 

“Positive,” David said, making his way under the covers, “besides it's nicer to sleep next to someone. It's something I’ve missed since the divorce.” David’s voice was sad, they both heard it. “I’ve thought about getting a dog so I’m not sleeping alone at night.” 

“No shit,” Brad had never thought of David as a pet person, “what kind of dog?”

“A big one,” David said sleepily, “one I could cuddle with.” He yawned, which in turn made Brad yawn as well. David finally laid down, pulling the covers up under his chin, he flopped on his side and faced away from Brad, “goodnight Brad.”

“Goodnight,” Brad replied, turning off the lamp on his nightstand. He flopped over in bed, facing the opposite direction of David. 

Brad hated how quiet it was now, he really wasn't tired but he didn't want to wait to get into bed. Brad would gladly sit on the couch until two in the morning watching whatever shitty western movie was playing on TV but the idea of slipping into bed while David slept felt too… coupley. 

“Brad?” David spoke, interrupting Brad's thoughts. 

“What's up?” Brad looked over his shoulder and noticed David had sat up. He did the same.

“I know this might be a weird question and you can obviously say no, you've done so much for me tonight, I can't ask and expect everything of you, you know?” David rattled faster than he had all night, but Brad listened to every word, “but, if it's not too much trouble, could I sleep on you?”

“On me?” Brad asked, confused.

“Not on you, but like, closer.” Even in the dark David’s blush was noticeable.

Brad said nothing, he simply laid back down flat on his back. David took this as an invitation, sliding closer to Brad and slowly resting his head on his chest. After a moment David pulled the rest of his body closer, and hesitantly he placed his top leg in between Brad's. Brad wrapped the arm trapped under David’s body around his back, placing a warm palm on David’s back. David's hair was wet and cold, soaking through Brad's pajama shirt, but Brad couldn't have cared less and David laid his arm across Brad's stomach. 

“Is this okay?” David asked, making sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

“Yes,” Brad's response was quiet and breathy, and he spoke as if any loud noise he made would disrupt them. “I didn’t upset you, did I? With the kiss?”

“No,” David said softly. “It was nice. I enjoyed it. I don’t know why I cried, I think I just needed to if that makes sense?”

“It does,” Brad knew the feeling all too well.

“Good,” David hummed, listening carefully to the beat of Brad's heart and the soft rattle of his lungs as he began his drift off to sleep. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Brad spoke as quietly as possible.

“For being nice,” David said, “for being here,” he added delicately.

“I don't think I would want to be anywhere else but here,” Brad admitted. 

“Me neither.” Brad traced circles on David’s back, lulling him to sleep. 

Before Brad knew it, David was asleep. His breathing was calm and steady, and as he fell deeper into sleep his breathing grew heavy and mimicked a slight snore. Brad was glad to be here with David, he meant what he said, and he hoped David did too. And though he may never say anything to David, Brad hoped he could fall asleep this exact same way every night.


End file.
